


Picnic Panic

by BarPurple



Series: Sluggys's Feb Prompts [8]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Magic, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-02-09
Packaged: 2018-09-23 02:43:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9637394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarPurple/pseuds/BarPurple
Summary: “How the hell did the sand get there?”





	

Belle and Rumple trudged wearily into the mudroom at the back of their house. The battered remains of their wicker picnic basket was dropped on the floor, the bottle of wine they hadn’t had a chance to open rolled out, but neither of them had the energy to pick it up.

Rumple pulled off his shoes and poured out a near comical amount of sand. Belle was already bare foot having lost her shoes at some point during the battle with the sandworms. She lifted her wind swept hair off the back of her neck.

“Unzip me?”

Rumple obliged, grimacing at the grating sound the zipper made as he pulled it down. He took his keys and wallet out of his jacket pockets along with handfuls of sand. Those bloody worms were supposed to be desert dwellers; they weren’t supposed to turn up at the seaside. 

They carried on peeling their clothes off, wincing as sand rasped from their skin and joined the every growing layer on the floor. At this rate they’d be able to have a beach picnic in here. Belle unhooked her bra and surprise-surprise shook sand from the cups. How the hell did it get there? Then again he had sand in his boxers so maybe the easier question would be where hadn’t the sand got. He longed to be able to wave his hand and banish the damn gritty itchy grains, but the angry welt on his hand proved that the bloody worms had magic inhibiting properties in their venom. Still his curse was already fighting back; he’d be back on form in a few hours.

“Rumple! Don’t move!”

At the frantic hiss from Belle he froze his trousers halfway around his thighs. Belle, now naked save for her panties, dove for the fallen wine bottle and bashed the hell out of a patch of sand by his left foot. There was a sickening crunch and Belle gave a yell of triumph.

“Got the bastard.”

One of the worms had hitched a lift home with them apparently. Belle tossed the gore smeared bottle into the picnic basket and looked tiredly up at Rumple.

“Shower then bed?”

“Oh yes, sweetheart.”

The first thing Rumple had to do when his magic returned was unblock the drain. Who knew Belle’s hair could hold that much sand?


End file.
